Spring Fever
by suholy
Summary: The students and professors at hogwarts are behaving oddly. Lust, Voldemort, and big green monsters will be faced. Severus/Neville slash
1. The problem

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.  
  
Warning: there will be slash later.  
  
Rating R, to be on the safe side.  
  
Chapter One: The Problem  
  
"What could be causing this?" Professor McGonagall asked in exasperation. Professor Flitwick finished assigning detentions to the three sixth years that had been fighting in the corridor, and sent two of them to the infirmary.  
  
"I don't know Minerva," he said. It was the third fight they had broken up that week, and it was only Tuesday. They both sighed, and then McGonagall glanced at her watch.  
  
"We're late for the staff meeting," she announced, and began striding towards the staff room they had been heading to before the brawl in the hallway interrupted them. Flitwick had to run to keep up, and was rather out of breath when he reached the room just behind her. (And what a nice behind she had) Flitwick blushed and took his seat. Glancing around to distract himself from this thought, he saw he wasn't the last teacher there, in spite of being ten minuets late. Dumbledore smiled a distracted welcome, while professor Trelawney ignored their arrival and continued to speak in rather different tones then here usual mournful whisper.  
  
"I can sense a dark force hovering over Hogwarts! You must put a stop to this!"  
  
"What's upset her so much?" Flitwick whispered to Professor Sprout.  
  
"Crab and Goyle had a scuffle in her parlor this morning and broke most of her teacups." She responded tiredly. Just then the door was thrown open and Professor Snape stalked in. His threatening aura was marred by two scratches on his left jaw, and one of his sleeves was hanging where it had been ripped nearly off at the shoulder seam. He glared at the assembled teachers as he took his seat, daring any of them to comment at his condition, and wiped a drop of blood off his face with a handkerchief.  
  
Dumbledore stood up, interrupting Trelawney's tirade. "Now that we're all here, does anyone have any new information to report?"  
  
"I checked the entire school for a charm that could cause this aggression and found nothing." Flitwick said wearily.  
  
"And I haven't found any curses other then an impotence curse in the seventh year bedroom for male slytherins," said Bill Weasley, who had accepted the position of DADA professor for one year. "You might talk to Miss Parkenson about that Severus." He smiled at the glowering head of slytherin.  
  
Professor Snape growled. Starting more then three weeks previously, the number of student conflicts had begun to rise. Previously stable relationships fell apart and reformed in new patterns. At first the teachers had called it spring fever and put it down to nerves about Voldemort, but soon it was clear some outside influence was at work. Severus was disgusted with by the fact that the slytherins had been in more fights then any other house since the start of the strange behavior. He did his best to control the students during potions classes, but it seemed he had more trouble than the other teachers.  
  
Hagrid broke into the tense pause, "this doesna' seem like something HE would do. I mean, it's not doin' much harm, really."  
  
"No Harm!" Trelawney would have continued if Dumbledore hadn't given her a warning look.  
  
Bill looked thoughtful. "When you look at each individual incident it seems like a simple case of excess hormones. Maybe something is giving everyone extra sexual energy, and some of it is being expressed though violence due to the students immaturity."  
  
"Yeah, I know I've been feelin' kinda frisky lately, haven't you?" Hagrid asked innocently. There was silence as they all avoided each others eyes.  
  
Finally Snape broke the silence. "I think Hagrid is correct in that Voldemort is probably not directly involved in this. While there have been a lot of fighting among the students, the majority of them are behaving as well as they ever do. Nor has anyone been seriously injured."  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "I take it you have all searched for the cause of this disturbance to the best of your abilities. Has anyone found anything that might relate to it? No? Well in that case we might as well get ready for supper. I know you will all continue to think on the problem. If anyone has a new idea, don't hesitate to bring it to my attention, no matter how unlikely it seems." 


	2. continues

Chapter two:  
  
Severus took a moment to repair his robe and face as the other professors were leaving. He was thoroughly sick of the plague of aggression after spending the last two weeks analyzing everything at Hogwarts that was drunk, eaten, touched, or breathed. The results were a number of confiscated drugs and potions, but nothing to cause the real problem. "Well, that was another waste of time." He said acidly to Bill who also remained seated.  
  
Bill shrugged. "You know Voldemort better then I do. Do you think he might be indirectly involved in this?"  
  
Severus scowled at the reminder of how close he had once been to the dark lord, but thought seriously about the question. "Not if this is all there is to the disturbance. It's too petty for him to even care about. If it's meant to get worse, though...." He shrugged and rose from the table.  
  
Bill couldn't help but admire Severus' lean form as he strode from the room. As a student, he had had a crush on the potions master. Although now all he felt was respect and admiration, he was still drawn to the aura of power and control, and a few other attributes of course. Hagrid wasn't the only one feeling frisky. "I think it's reached a plateau, actually. And it's helped to clear the air in a lot of the cases. If the force remains constant, the fighting will die down."  
  
Just then a fourteen year old girl ran by sobbing, followed by a friend with a handkerchief begging her to slow down.  
  
Severus raised an incredulous eyebrow at Bill. "You are forgetting that we're dealing with teenagers. Bundles of uncontrolled hormones and repressed aggression. It's a miracle they haven't all murdered each other."  
  
Bill was surprised by the bitterness underneath the sarcasm in Severus' voice. "I take it you didn't enjoy your student years then." Receiving no reply, he went on, "They're not all that bad. There must be a few that you actually like." Bill grinned. "After all, who could resist the charm of the Boy Who Lived?"  
  
Snape actually looked amused at this, which Bill considered a small victory. "The only thing good about Harry Potter is that he isn't quite as bad as James Potter, which isn't saying much."  
  
They reached the great hall then, and took their seats at the table. Severus refused to discuss the subject further.  
  
  
  
Severus finally relaxed in his own dungeon. Supper had been exhausting, with the food fights that had become a regular occurrence at almost every meal. Only when he was in private behind locked doors did he dare relax his control. Severus wouldn't call himself frisky, but he had noticed a change in his mood almost before the spring fever began. He felt unsettled and anxious, almost as though something was missing but he couldn't quite remember what. Sometimes it felt like the tension before the storm broke, and it made him impatient with the students. Of course they weren't likely to notice the difference in their current state. In addition to the spring fever problem, they were all in a state of anxiety over Voldemort. The spies, no longer a group he was part of, agreed that Voldemort was preparing to attack Hogwarts before the end of school. He could not allow Harry to live on as proof of his defeats and a constant challenge to his power.  
  
Severus sighed, wishing it was still last summer. Just a few students to deal with, and one or two that he actually enjoyed spending time with. After this year, though, those students would be gone. Severus went to bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. It wasn't right to think of a student that way. There was no chance that his feelings would be returned, and he the boy deserved someone as young and innocent as he was. Not a bitter old potions master. Severus glanced at his wall clock and sighed. It was time to supervise detention again. 


	3. The detention

Chapter Three  
  
Neville finished washing his hair, necessary after the food fight, and dressed in clean clothes before heading down to the potions classrooms. Once, it would have taken class or detention to force him down the stairs to Professor Snapes' lair. The events in his forth and fifth years at Hogwarts had shown him that there were much more frightening things than the potions master, and spending the last two summers at school in relative privacy with Severus had taught him things about him that made it impossible to fear him again. At some point Neville and Severus had both started spending long evenings in the library. Somehow, made braver, perhaps, by the loss of his gran, Neville had started sharing his feelings and problems with the professor. To his surprise, Severus had understood without pity or contempt. Eventually he had returned with his own confidences, and Neville came to understand the man a great deal better.  
  
It was a pity that he still had no talent with potions, but it had become much easier now that he wasn't too afraid to ask questions. Now in his seventh year, Neville was working on his final potions project, which he had been able to combine it with his herbology project. He had chosen a type of potions not emphasized in normal classes because they could take months or years to reach usefulness, but that was all to the good for Neville. The extra time kept him from making mistakes due to haste. The type of potions was enough to provide the motivation he needed to study the subject, and he was looking forward to his best potions grade yet at the end of the year. Professor Sprout assured him Green mages would fight over who would get him as an apprentice when his project was completed. While Neville was sure she was exaggerating, he was nevertheless confident that he had a future after Hogwarts. He was in a good mood as he descended to the dungeons to check on his last batches of magical composts and fertilizers.  
  
  
  
Professor Snape glared at his detendees. There had been so many detentions handed out in the last two weeks that professors were simply assigning any chore they could think of to the students, and telling them to do it without magic. A fight that had broken out in class that afternoon had caused a number of bottles to shatter from badly aimed curses, and gave the causes of the fight plenty to clean up in the evening. Currently Vincent Crabbe was on hands and knees scrubbing the floor. Pansy was scrubbing various items at the sink, while Draco and Gregory Goyle were cleaning off the shelves and bottles while conducting an argument entirely in whispers and glares.  
  
This was the sight that greeted Neville when he arrived to check his project. The project was a row of small cauldrons in a variety of shapes and substances taking up an entire shelf in the back of the rooms. Neville hadn't had time to check them for damage after the fight because fumes from the spilled materials had forced them all to leave in a hurry. He smiled at the professor grading papers at his desk and walked carefully around the spills to his cauldrons. Most of them were covered and sitting on magical warming tiles to keep their temperatures constant. Unfortunately one of the more delicate mixtures had been sitting uncovered for its' final stage of cooling, and was now a nauseating shade of yellow rather then the smoky black it should have been. Severus finished grading the last page in a stack and walked over to Neville. Neville smiled at him and then frowned at his cauldrons. "This one is a complete loss. Something probably got into it and knocked the dragons' blood out of suspension."  
  
"Indeed," the professor said, moving closer to Neville to look at it himself. "How are your other potions proceeding?" It was too late in the year to redo many of the time consuming mixtures that Neville had worked so hard on. Anything destroyed now would have to be left out of the final report.  
  
"The covered ones are fine." Neville took down another cauldron that had been uncovered and looked in it. "This one was just the standard type four base with odds and ends thrown in. There's no way to tell if it's contaminated." Neville turned towards Severus and found his face only inches away from the other mans' neck. He smelled nice, Neville noted absently, like some exotic spice. Looking up he saw something in the dark eyes that made him lean closer and reach out to pull Severus to himself. There was a sudden loud crash of bottles breaking. They jumped apart, and turned towards the noise in alarm. No one said a word for a moment. All eyes in the room were staring in amazement at Goyle who was pinning Draco against the wall and appeared to be trying to lick the other boys tonsils. Draco didn't appear to mind very much. 


	4. was interesting

Chapter Four  
  
Neville returned to the Gryffindor common room in a bad mood. If only they hadn't been interrupted, he could have kissed Severus! It was something he had wanted to do for years. In his fourth year Neville had started to fantasize about the potions professor. Most of those fantasies involved Snape naked and tied up on his own desk, and Neville still indulged in that dream even though he was no longer afraid of the man. Now, though, he simply wanted Severus any way he could have him. Thinking about what had just happened; Neville thought Severus had been interested as well, since he hadn't been moving away when they were interrupted. He would have to get Severus alone, Neville decided, calming down. He would find out if the man returned his feelings at all, and then, well, he could always tie him to the desk. Neville laughed to himself at his thoughts, and went to take another shower to relieve some tension.  
  
Severus swore to himself after he finally got the students to finish cleaning and get out. What the Hell had he been thinking? Well, actually he knew what he had been thinking, or at least what he had been thinking with, but what he wanted was impossible. Neville was a student, and just a boy, even if he seemed much more mature then his years. He had just turned eighteen in February. He didn't need a forty year old man all but throwing himself at him. It had to be the spring fever that was making Neville seem interested in him. Once it passed, Neville would come to his senses and find someone else. Severus scowled at the thought of anyone else touching Neville, and got up to get ready for bed.  
  
Looking in the mirror, Severus saw that he needed a haircut. His hair always grew faster in the spring. He looked closer, and sighed. His roots were starting to show, and he knew he needed to switch to washing his hair twice a day once again. He pulled out his wand and, looking at himself sideways in the mirror, murmured "Scissoris." He winced at the slight sting as the last inch of his hair was neatly removed, and picking up an ugly grey bar of soap, went into the shower. 


	5. what on earth

Chapter five  
  
Under normal circumstances, Draco and Goyle would have been a nine days wonder. In this case it was overshadowed in less then a day by Hermione and Ron. Hermione explained quite calmly that Ron was a consenting partner, but Professor McGonagall insisted on removing the gag to hear Ron's version. They both were given detention for public indecency, in spite of arguments that the prefect's bathroom was not public. The whips and manacles were confiscated. Millicent Bulstrode had no explanation for why she was singing naked underneath the ravenclaw dorm windows, but she received several bouquets of flowers the next day.  
  
The teachers were speculating on weather the influence was becoming stronger, or if the students were simply becoming less inhibited the longer they were exposed to it. Severus forced himself to avoid prolonged contact with Neville for several days, much to Neville's' frustration. Vincent Crabbe was no longer seen with Draco and Goyle. Instead he was following Ginny Weasley around with candy whenever classes allowed.  
  
Neville went down to the potions classroom Saturday afternoon to work on his project, and, hopefully, spend some uninterrupted time with the potions master. The room was empty. Neville suspected Severus was in his office, but decided to work before trying to talk to him. He paused while getting one of his potions down. If anyone had told him in his third year that one day he would actually want to spend time with Professor Snape, he would have said "umm, sure," and backed slowly away until he was far enough away from the obviously dangerous lunatic to turn and run. Time had changed things. Spending the summer at Hogwarts while his Gran lay in a coma at St Mungos after her last stroke had left Neville desperate for someone to talk to. Someone who wouldn't tell him everything would be fine and not to worry. So, one night when he was unable to sleep, and Severus had caught him wandering the halls, Neville had found himself pouring out his feelings to the one person who he was sure would never care. Severus hadn't told him it would be alright, and hadn't looked at him with pity or contempt. He had simply taken him to his office and given him hot cocoa, and listened. And he had understood. After a while, when the nightly talks had become common, Severus offered bits of his own history. Neville gradually learned of the father who beat and tortured him, and a mother who was kept drugged or confined to her rooms.  
  
Neville rarely talked about his own parents, who had been driven mad by the Cruciatus curse and couldn't recognize there own son. He hated the sympathy and pity, sure that they would vanish if he told them the truth. His parents were strangers to him. That he hated visiting them. A part of him hated them for not caring enough about him to stay sane. A part of him wished they were dead rather then locked up in a hospital, because if they were dead he wouldn't be twisted up inside and hating himself for what he felt.  
  
Severus showed him that it could be worse. Severus' mother had hated him. Her pregnancy with him had been unwanted, caused by a fertility charm her husband had used without her knowledge. She had become extremely ill during the pregnancy, nearly dieing, due to an experimental potion she drank. Severus didn't elaborate on this, but it was clear to Neville that she had tried to cause an abortion. Over the course of many nights spent talking, Neville had even learned how Severus's parents had died, and why he had joined Voldemort.  
  
Neville had lost all fear of Severus when he realized that the professor was telling him this not to teach him, but because he needed the contact and understanding just as much as Neville did. That was also when Neville fell in love.  
  
Neville shook his head. He had to concentrate on the potion, not stand lost in memories. He carefully measured a teaspoon of the blue liquid and added it to a bowl of fresh rainwater, collected at midnight on the last new moon. The end result, he hoped, would be a growth accelerant that could be used on magical plants. If mandrakes could be brought to maturity in days rather then the months it had taken during second year while his classmates lay petrified in the infirmary…  
  
The last part of preparation was a spell, and Neville gripped his wand tightly as he recited the charm and moved the tip counterclockwise over the surface of the liquid. He didn't relax until the potion turned dark and golden sparkles swirled in the depths of the bowl. He smiled in satisfaction and wiped his forehead, relaxing his sweaty fingers grip on the polished wood. 


	6. will happen next

Chapter six  
  
"Shit!"  
  
Professor Snape nearly spilled the jar of dragon venom he was refilling when he heard Neville cursing. It was such a rare occurrence that he nearly ran out of his office, after carefully setting the jar down of course. He was greeted with the sight of a young tree growing out of bowl in the middle of a classroom table.  
  
"I thought there was to be no experimentation in my classroom!" Professor Snape snapped. "Petrificus Totalis!" he added, seeing that the tree was growing at a rather alarming rate. The spell had no effect.  
  
"Dormiens frigido!" Neville said helpfully, while taking the rest of the potion base to a safe distance from the tree. "And I wasn't experimenting!"  
  
"Dormiens frigido," Severus commanded. The growth slowed, but did not stop. The tree was now five feet tall, and roots were winding there way down the table legs like vines with a bad sense of direction. "Where's your wand?" he asked in frustration. Although Neville wasn't good at charms or transfiguration, he had shown a surprising knack for healing and plant related spells, and the growth retardant spell would work much better if he was casting it.  
  
"Right there!" Neville said, waving his hand at the tree.  
  
"Oh." Severus was hard pressed to keep from laughing, but was helped by a branch knocking a valuable jar of unicorn horn off the newly restocked shelves. "Use mine," he said abruptly, throwing it to Neville, who fumbled but managed not to drop it.  
  
"Dormiens frigido!" Neville said, pointing the other mans wand at the tree. The wand hissed white sparks that stung Neville's hand making him drop it with a yelp. "I'm no good with other people's wands," Neville said helplessly, picking it up and giving it back to Snape.  
  
Severus swore and cast the spell again. It made perfect sense that Neville was wand sensitive, and only able to use wands that were in harmony with his specific magical energy field. Wand sensitive wizards tended to be very good with certain magics, but abysmal with the rest. Snape thought fast. By the time he could get help, the wand tree would be to big to get through the doors, not to mention the wreck his classroom would be in, and it would be public knowledge that he hadn't been able to deal with the problem himself. Many of the substances in the room were volatile so he couldn't destroy it without also damaging the room. Neville couldn't use his wand, since they obviously had different magical energy types. "Accacio wand!" Severus snapped waving his wand in the direction of his private rooms. Perhaps Neville wasn't too sensitive. Severus hoped so.  
  
Neville stared as a stick came flying through the air. It didn't look like much of a wand to him, but Snape directed it to him and he caught it automatically. He didn't have time to examine it. "Try that one!" Severus snapped at him.  
  
Neville griped it by what he hoped was the handle and again cast the spell to stop the trees growth. "Dormiens frigido!" This time he felt the power respond smoothly to his desires. The tree stopped growing immediately, and Neville knew it would remain still for several days. He gaped at the wand in astonishment. It was only eight or nine inches long. Rather then being a smooth crafted piece it was lumpy and heavy, and thick with a diameter of an inch and a half at the base, tapering only slightly toward the point. Looking closer, Neville saw the grain was swirled and almost seemed to form strange runes. It wasn't like any piece of wood he had ever seen. "What is this?" Neville asked, tearing his gaze from the strange wand and looking finally at Snape.  
  
Severus had collapsed into a chair in sheer relief when the growth stopped, and was wondering if the tree was still small enough to fit through the doors. Neville's question interrupted his mental door measuring and he raised an eyebrow at the student. "Hmm? Oh that. I've no idea actually. It in my fathers vault when I went though his papers. It's not dark magic," he added at Neville's wary look, "I checked it for that." He had tried using it himself but found it to clumsy for potions work.  
  
"Oh." Neville said. "Well, thank you." Neville added and made as though to hand it back to Severus.  
  
Snape raised the eyebrow again. "Should I assume you have a spare wand? If not, you'll need it for classes until you can buy a new one." He smiled at Neville's look of stunned delight, wishing he could make Neville that happy on a regular basis. He was starting to speculate on what else might delight the young man, when Hermione and Vincent Crabb walked into the classroom. Severus was relieved by the interruption, or so he told himself most firmly. He forced himself to concentrate on getting the tree out of the dungeons and into the greenhouse with the help of the hapless draftees. 


	7. Oh dear

Chapter Seven.  
  
Note. They're not mine, thank goodness, or we'd never get book five.  
  
Neville was delighted by the new wand. Normally when trying a strange wand he had the sensation that it was vibrating like an unhappy bee. His former wand, which had been passed down to him from a great uncle who was too old to be allowed to use one, was much calmer, but even it had hummed slightly. Neville had always assumed the vibration was normal for all wands, but now he knew better. The crude looking wand felt still in his hand. It was at once heavy and stable in his hand, yet responded instantly to his commands like a feather to the wind. It didn't make charms any easier to learn, but the spells he did know were less draining for him now. This was a good thing, since professor Sprout decided to take the seventh years on a field trip the week after the wand-tree incident.  
  
Professor Sprout was practically vibrating with excitement as all the seventh years who had chosen to take the optional last year herbology class gathered at Hagrids' cabin. Hagrid was handing out oversized butterfly nets, and McGonagall was checking the students' wands. As Voldemort had gained power, trips outside school grounds had become less common and more dangerous. Although the wards on the school extended into the forbidden forest past the area targeted by Sprout, all three teachers would accompany the students.  
  
McGonagall wasn't happy to be going, but she had been unable to convince Dumbledore to cancel the field trip, and she was the logical choice to accompany them. Of the faculty only Severus and Bill were as good in a crisis or under violent attack. Bill had too many classes to teach this day, and Professor Snapes' aversion, (some said phobia,) to the forbidden forest was well known. She declined a net from Hagrid and tried not to blush when he smiled at her shyly and offered her a flower instead. Fortunately none of the students were paying attention to them. Professor Sprout had begun instructing the students on their quarry.  
  
"This is the perfect time of year to catch a bogent," Sprout said happily, ignoring her colleagues byplay. "The adult bogents will have rooted last month when the weather turned warm, right after pollination occurred. Juveniles will have rooted also by now and won't move until late summer when game is plentiful again. Only the seedlings from last fall will be mobile, now that they've burrowed up from their winter sleep. They will be hunting insects, small birds, and rodents. Have you all practiced the spell to cause them to take root?"  
  
The students all nodded, except for Blaise Zabini who had missed the previous herbology class. "Professor? Why do we need to do that? Can't we just stun them?"  
  
Sprout frowned at him. "Bogents are immune to direct magical attacks, Blaise. The spell I taught the rest of the class works indirectly by making the ground you cast it on very rich and irresistible to this plant. It won't last when we start to dig it up however, which is why you have the nets." She looked around to make sure they were all prepared. "All right. Everyone find a partner and stay with them. Neville, you take Blaise. Everyone stay together and in plain sight of at least one of the teachers. Let's go!"  
  
As they went towards the forest, Neville filled Blaise in about the bogents and the spell to capture one. It was a variation on a simple earth blessing which made a patch of soil clean and fertile. Then they were following the small professor into the forest, while McGonagall and Hagrid guarded the tail.  
  
Bogents preferred swampy areas, especially the younger ones. The seedlings would be less then two feet tall, and would blend into the underbrush perfectly. That made finding one quite challenging. The best method for the large group, according to Sprout, was to look for likely patches of bushes and cast the spell on the ground next to them. Hopefully the young bogent would be attracted enough to come out and take root. There were quite a lot of bushes and vines in the swampy ground, however, and after two hours, many of the students doubted the soundness of this advice as well as the presence of any bogent seedlings.  
  
Even Professor Sprout was looking a bit worn, but she was certain the seedlings were there. "I saw an adult near here last fall," she said in encouragement when they stopped to let Hagrid pull Hermione out of some quicksand. "It had just seeded, and still had empty pod cases hanging from its branches. Let's try going slower and spreading out a bit. We may be frightening them away."  
  
McGonagall frowned at that, but the sooner they found a plant, the sooner they could get out of the swamp. Anyways, nothing besides quicksand and bugs had threatened them yet, so what could it hurt to spread out a little?  
  
Neville and Blaise stayed near Sprout. Blaise tried to tiptoe while Neville scanned the bushes carefully. Neville froze; hearing a rustle from a patch of bushes and seeing a sparrow take off in haste. It might have just been frightened of the humans of course, but it was worth casting a spell at. He grabbed Blaise to keep him still and cast the spell just next to the bushes. Nothing happened for a minuet, and Blaise was shifting impatiently when small roots wiggled out from the brush, looking like green worms. The seedling followed its' roots, and was soon standing in the bespelled mud burrowing in with its' tiny roots. Neville almost imagined he could hear it purr, which bogents could not actually do. Even adult bogents couldn't do much more then hiss, or whistle if they were upset. In fact, there was a loud whistling noise nearby. 


	8. what vicious trees we have

Chapter Eight  
  
Not mine, ECT.  
  
Neville spun around as the whistling noise was joined by what sounded like a large animal forcing its' way through heavy underbrush. Professor Sprout burst out of the bushes across the clearing and ran towards them.  
  
"Run! Hagrid, get the students away!" She was in the middle of the clearing when the bushes behind her were violently uprooted and thrown aside.  
  
Most of the students ran at the sight of the adult bogent. The pictures in their books had shown the plant in its' rooted phase, looking like a lumpy, thick branched tree. What charged into the clearing looked nothing like the pictures. The roots slid across the ground like snakes. They met at the trunk which was two feet wide near the ground, but quickly split into several thick branches of at least ten feet long. Each branch had a gaping mouth about two thirds of its length from the trunk, filled with sharp fangs (actually thorns) and many smaller branches extended from the main ones like tentacles. With slender pointed leaves covering it, the bogent looked like a fuzzy green mutant hydra/medusa crossbreed that only Hagrid would think up.  
  
Whatever Hagrid might have thought of the thing, he had the sense to get the students away before he tried to make friends with it. Blowing a loud whistle he summoned the spread out students and shoved them back down the trail towards the school. "Neville! Get away from there!" Hagrid yelled as Blaise streaked by him. "Harry, get moving!"  
  
Neville emerged from his shocked state and started backing away, still watching Professor Sprout as she cast repeated blocking spells between herself and the enraged tree. He promptly tripped over the bogent seedling and fell on his rear. The infant tree scurried back into the bushes in fright at being stepped on. Neville scrambled back to his feet and saw Professor Sprout turn and run after casting one last spell.  
  
Harry hadn't moved at all. When Sprout ran, Harry cast an incendio charm in front of the oncoming tree, creating a wall of flame. The bogent made a noise like an ice pick on a chalkboard and charged directly at Harry.  
  
Neville had started to run as soon as Sprout did, but spun around at the noise. "No!" he yelled as branches sent the boy who lived flying into a tree. Teeth sliced into Harry's' leg before he could fall. "Stupify!" Neville cast, and then cursed himself as an idiot. Harry was limp, whether from hitting the tree or Neville's spell Neville didn't know, but the bogent only turned and started towards him.  
  
"Get back Neville!" Sprout yelled. She stopped running when Harry was attacked, and ran towards the tree. "Frissio!" she cast, aiming for the side that wasn't chewing on her student. Ice formed on the branches, but was quickly shaken off as the tree turned back towards her, and away from Neville.  
  
Neville didn't move. He couldn't leave his second favorite teacher to a carnivorous magic resistant tree, and Harry was the best hope for killing Voldemort. He tried desperately to think. The tree was resistant to magical attack, and pretty damn resistant to physical attacks also, though he noticed that something had hurt it recently. Two of its' branches were burnt stumps oozing sap, and Neville was sure Harry's' fire hadn't done that. It explained why the creature was attacking them. It must have been driven from its' rooting spot by something, and was probably crazed with pain and rage.  
  
Neville took a deep breath. Attacking hadn't worked, and he only knew one spell that could influence a bogent, so he cast the soil modifying charm at the ground under the creature with all his strength. He knew it wasn't strong enough, but he repeated it over and over, concentrating on calming the enraged creature. At some point Neville stopped speaking and just stood silent while the energy continued to flow from him, directed only by his will.  
  
"Neville," a quiet voice made him open his eyes, only then realizing that he had closed them. The clearing was quiet. McGonagall was bandaging Harry, who was lying on the ground, some distance away from the bogent which was now rooted and still. Neville turned to Professor Sprout who was looking at him with concerned amazement.  
  
"What happened?" Neville asked. He sat down abruptly feeling drained.  
  
Professor Sprout sat down next to him and offered him a glass of water that he accepted gratefully. "What do you remember happening?"  
  
"Um, it came out of the bushes after you. You slowed it down, then Harry used incendio and it went after him. I tried to stun it." Neville winced at his stupidity, but continued. "You were trying to get Harry free, I think, and tried to freeze it. I cast the soil charm you showed us. I thought if I cast it strong enough, it might calm down a little. I don't remember anything else but trying to calm it." Neville glanced around again seeing McGonagall creating a stretcher for Harry. "What happened?" He asked again.  
  
Sprout looked thoughtful. "Well, the spell you used is one of the basic earth spells. It's very sensitive to the intention of the caster. You were obviously in a trance when the bogent stopped and released Harry. What's the last thing you remember wishing as you cast it?"  
  
Neville frowned. He was a little embarrassed to realize he hadn't been stopping the bogent or saving his friends. "I was wishing I could heal it. It had some burns in the back. I think it was injured somehow, and that's what made it violent." He blushed in embarrassment, but Sprout looked bemused rather then annoyed.  
  
"Oh Neville," Professor Sprout ruffled his hair in affection, then bounced to her feet. "I hope you never change." Then she leaned over and peered behind him and grinned. "Well, I see this field trip was a success after all!"  
  
Neville looked behind himself in confusion, and was surprised to find the bogent seedling snuggling up against his back. 


	9. into the woods

Chapter Nine  
  
Authors note, they are not mine, except for the bogents.  
  
When the expedition had returned to Hogwarts and the injuries treated, Dumbledore called a staff meeting to discuss the matter. Professor Sprout and Hagrid both recounted what they had seen and done. McGonagall had arrived at the scene after the bogent had been stopped. When they were done, Madame Pomfrey reported on Harry's' condition.  
  
"He will need to stay in the infirmary for at least a day, perhaps two. His leg muscles and tendons were badly damaged, but nothing that can't be fixed. What bothers me more is why he tried to take on a bogent by himself." She sighed and shook her head. "We may want to reconsider the danger this spring fever presents. I can't tell you all of what Harry told me, but it's enough to say that he was trying to impress a student. This student told him that being the boy who lived wasn't impressive because everything he did was reacting and trying to survive, not genuine courage." All the teacher shook their heads at that, and even Snape snorted in disgust. "Well, Harry didn't entirely believe that, but what happened today hasn't helped his self confidence. I think he'll recover in a few days, but some students aren't as strong as Harry. What will the next one try?" Madame Pomfrey sat down again, and the others considered her words.  
  
Dumbledore spoke up when no one said anything for a minuet. "We cannot predict what the students will do under this pressure. All we can do is watch and take every precaution. And Neville has earned fifty points for Gryffindor."  
  
No one argued with Dumbledore's' statement. Hagrid had another matter in mind, however. "I'd like to know what injured the bogent, sir. There ain't nothin' in that part o' the forest that would be able to hurt a big un' like that was."  
  
Sprout seconded Hagrids opinion. "If I knew of anything that would send an adult bogent on a rampage, I would never have taken the students out there. That bogent was seeding. It wouldn't have left its own grounds without an extreme threat. It's lost this years seeds because it did that."  
  
"I could go back and follow its trail. Whatever did it must have left signs an' footprints." Hagrid volunteered eagerly.  
  
"Tomorrow, Hagrid. It's nearly past suppertime already." Dumbledore smiled fondly at Hagrid for a moment, and then continued. "In fact I believe we should all make an appearance in the great hall to reassure the students." He rose to leave and the teachers followed him.  
  
  
  
After dinner, Professor Sprout went to greenhouse four to check on the newly installed young bogent. Hagrid and Severus both accompanied her. Neville was already there, having bolted his supper and then fled from his inquisitive housemates. The other Gryffindors were having difficulty believing that Neville, of all people, had stopped the furious bogent. Neville understood that of course. He was having some difficulty in that area himself. Seeing the younger bogent dispelled the sense of unreality that had crept over him, and made him examine his memories to try to understand how he had done what he had to the older creature. He was examining the new wand again when the teachers arrived.  
  
Hagrid grinned at him and went over to coo at the bogent. Sprout noticed the wand for the first time. "What kind of wand is that, Neville, and where did you get it?" She asked with a frown.  
  
Neville handed it to her so she could examine it herself. "I don't know what it is. Se- Professor Snape loaned it to me." He blushed, and hoped no one had noticed his slip. He had called the professor by his first name during their late night talks during the winter holidays. Neville glanced over at Severus and caught him looking at back at Neville with hunger in his eyes.  
  
Severus looked away quickly, silently cursing himself for his weakness. Stupid perverted freak his father's voice echoed in his head. Sprout brought him back to the present asking him about the wand. "I don't know what it is. I found it in my fathers vault after his death." She was looking at him rather oddly, so he added, "I examined it thoroughly. It isn't a standard wand, but it has no traces of dark magic in it."  
  
Professor Sprout continued to look at him strangely, and when she spoke her voice was uncertain but excited. "Where was your father from, Severus? He had an accent, if I remember correctly from that parent-teacher conference."  
  
Severus winced internally at the memory of that conference, and what had followed, then pushed the memory away. He frowned slightly, trying to recall the details of his father's occasional rants about his childhood and family. "A small wizarding community in Belarus, I believe, near Poland. I don't recall the name of the place, however."  
  
Sprout bit her lip and forced herself to be calm as her thoughts raced. "What was his surname?" She knew Snape was his mothers' name. The Snape family was old and proud. They insisted their name be taken by both male and female spouses.  
  
The Snape being questioned raised an eyebrow. "Do you know something about the wand, or have you suddenly acquired a passion for genealogy? His name was Zaleski." Severus frowned as Professor Sprout stared at him as though he had just told her he was Merlin reincarnated and she wasn't sure weather fall at his feet or laugh. He didn't see how anything about the sadistic lout that was his late unmourned father could inspire this kind of reaction.  
  
"Um, do you know something about the wand, Professor?" Neville asked when Sprout continued to stare at Severus, who stared back with mounting annoyance.  
  
Sprout blinked and looked down at the wand, then handed it back to Neville with a hint of reluctance. "I'm not sure, Neville. I am not an expert on wands, but it looks like. I think I need to consult with an expert, actually. Do you mind if I invite a colleague to come look at it?" She smiled absently at him, looking slightly dazed.  
  
"Um, ok," Neville replied, glancing at Severus to see if he had any objections. The potions master looked annoyed but didn't protest the decision.  
  
Professor Sprout smiled vaguely and hurried away, leaving Severus and Neville to exchange puzzled glances. Severus looked away when puzzlement became something else. He strode over to where Hagrid was tickling the bogent which was trying to eat his fingers. "What time are we leaving tomorrow?" Severus demanded to the half-giant.  
  
"Huh?" Hagrid looked up in confusion. "Ouch," He pulled his fingers away from the bogent and smiled fondly at it.  
  
"I will accompany you tomorrow on your investigation in the forest," Severus explained with exaggerated patience.  
  
"But yeh hate th' forest!" Hagrid exclaimed, absently giving his fingers back to the plant to be gnawed on. "Ouch."  
  
"I do not!" Severus snapped, then took a breath and calmed himself. "I would like to collect some leaves from the mature bogent and your presence will ensure that I am unmolested while I do so." He crossed his arms and glared at the small creature that was reaching again towards Hagrids' unguarded hand. It abruptly retracted its reaching branch and became the picture of an innocent shrub. Severus looked away from it hoping no one had noticed. Fortunately Hagrid was still looking at him in puzzlement. Snape turned away irritably and headed toward the door. "I will meet you at dawn in front of your cabin."  
  
"Okay," Hagrid replied, and then shrugged and turned back to the innocent looking plant. "I wonder what he really wants? He knows I'd get leaves for 'im if 'e asked."  
  
Neville watched Severus hurry away. If he hadn't been drained by the day's experiences, he would have followed the professor and tried to talk to him. Instead he went back to staring at his wand. Neville couldn't easily describe the difference between the new wand and all the other wands he had tried. All wands before this one had what he could only call a vibration, or a rough texture to their auras. Whenever he cast a spell the vibration made him feel that it was unstable and would fall apart the moment he was done casting it. Neville had always assumed it was due to his weakness as a wizard. This new wand was different. Using it felt like finding the eye of a hurricane, or standing on the center of a see-saw, at the point about which things moved but where he could stand firm. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Neville couldn't help wondering if even a wand from Ollivanders would be as perfect. With a sigh, Neville pocketed the wand and said goodnight to Hagrid. Hopefully, things would make more sense in the morning. 


	10. where there be dragons

Chapter Ten  
  
Once again, they don't belong to me.  
  
It was an exhausted Severus Snape who followed Hagrid back to Hogwarts the next afternoon. He ignored questions from his coworkers and vanished into the dungeons, leaving Hagrid to give the disturbing findings.  
  
"There were footprints and burn marks from a medium sized dragon. I'm thinking he was a Hebridean Black, though the footprints are the same as for the Swedish Short-Snout. The 'Snout has a really hot fire, though, so at that range it would've killed the poor bogy tree. He was definitely male. You could tell from the spurs on the hind feet that they use when they're mating. They 'ave to grip the females legs, y'see, 'cause they mate in the air, and, um..." Hagrid trailed to a stop when the glares of McGonagall and Trelawney registered, and lowered the hands he had been gesturing with.  
  
"I think we understand, thank you." Dumbledore twinkled at him. "Did you find anything else?"  
  
"Um, oh yeah, there were some human footprints too. It looked like mebbe someone was riding the dragon." Hagrid scowled at the thought. Dragon riding had been attempted centuries ago with mixed success, but was now illegal worldwide. Spells to control a dragon were rather unreliable in the long term due to a dragons innate wild magic. The last dragon this was attempted with had broken his magical bonds and gone on a killing spree in medieval Europe. (An ancestor of the Weasley family had tracked it down and been forced to kill it. Guess which twin was named after him?)  
  
The teachers all looked thoughtful at this. Finally McGonagall spoke what most of them were thinking. "Voldemort must be gathering new forces and testing our defenses. It's the only logical explanation."  
  
Bill frowned, thinking of what Charley had told him regarding dragons. "Perhaps he's moving faster then we thought. He can't expect to keep a dragon under control for very long."  
  
"His attack won't be for another two weeks at least. Our spies have been very clear on that," Dumbledore said reassuringly. It was a pity Severus was no longer one of those spies, but Voldemort had learned too much from Petigrew and Crouch, not to mention his stint with Quirrel as a parasite. "He wants disrupt the NEWTs."  
  
"Mm, well, it will be easy to break the riders control on the dragon, but an angry wild dragon will be almost as bad as an enemy controlled dragon," Said Bill thoughtfully. "We need to distract it from attacking Hogwarts at the same time."  
  
"Yes, why don't you and Hagrid look into that? We will meet tomorrow evening and discuss what needs to be done." Dumbledore rose, signaling the meetings end.  
  
  
  
Severus was his normal self the next day, scowling at his students to the usual degree. He had nothing to contribute to the meeting that evening, where Bill suggested a solution to the dragon problem, having conferred with Hagrid and a few pints of butterbeer the previous evening. The solution did not receive an enthusiastic reception, but no one had a better idea, so Dumbledore gave them permission to contact Charley and implement it.  
  
Although Harry had recovered his spirits after a talk with Dumbledore, there had been several more fights among the students. The most serious had culminated in a duel outside, and ended when one of the students was levitated into the branches of the whoomping willow by the other. Pomfrey had spent several hours repairing the internal damage and brain hemorrhages and was hopeful that the student would come out of his coma in a week or so. After the dragon problem was settled, she released her pent up frustration about the situation with a rant about the near death of a student and why had the problem been ignored for weeks. It was therefore on everyone's mind as the meeting dissolved. Hagrid and Sprout were still discussing it as they left the room.  
  
"It still seems like everyone's in a bit o' heat. It's that time o' year for lots o' critters," Hagrid asserted.  
  
"But humans don't work that way, and we've examined enough people to know it's some external stimulus causing the effect."  
  
"So it's more like the way the male animals act when the females 're in the mood. It don't make sense."  
  
"It makes perfect sense if we could just find a cause! I keep looking for strange plants in bloom, because plenty of plants can influence human moods through pheromones. But I can't find any, and anyway, the effect seems worse indoors."  
  
Sprout shook her head helplessly as she and Hagrid turned down a corridor which lead outside. Behind them, about to turn toward the dungeons, Snape paused and looked after them with a look of dawning horror on his face. Swallowing a sinking sensation, he turned instead back past the staff room toward the library. He desperately hoped he wouldn't find what he remembered reading many years ago.  
  
  
  
Authors note. I'm sorry about rushing this, but I wanted to finally update the story. I will do my best to write more. Sorry about the cliffhanger. Well, actually I'm not, but I will try to update in a few days. 


	11. It's time to tell

Chapter Eleven  
  
Once again, they don't belong to me. If I had enough talent and dedication to write the Harry Potter series, I would publish my writings somewhere that I would get paid for it.  
  
Severus Snape paced around his room trying again to think of a solution to his problem. He avoided looking at the book on the coffee table. He examined his conclusion and once again found no holes in the logic that led him to it. He paced some more.  
  
Severus thought seriously of saying nothing. No one else was likely to figure it out. The others all lacked one small piece of information. At least, he hoped they did. There was no telling what the headmaster knew, and Pomfrey might have some suspicions. He winced then, recalling the nurses' vivid description of the students' injuries. Severus couldn't blame himself much for what had already happened, but now that he knew the truth he would have blood on his hands if he said nothing.  
  
He sighed and threw himself onto the couch. His thoughts had been running in circles for the last two hours after finally finding the correct book around midnight. Severus knew what he had to do, but he couldn't help trying to find an alternative. There was none. He knew the cause of the spring fever. He could not stop it. Therefore, he would have to tell Dumbledore everything.  
  
Severus glanced at the clock and decided that he really couldn't wake the headmaster up at two-thirty a.m. He would have to wait until the man woke up, or perhaps until after breakfast. Severus fell into a fitful slumber, attacked by dreams of his fathers' voice and Neville.  
  
  
  
Snape was still procrastinating in the morning after breakfast, which he had not attended. It was Saturday, so that wasn't unusual for him He was splashing cold water on his face in an effort to calm his nerves when a bell sounded in his quarters summoning him to an emergency meeting in Dumbledore's office. Arriving with the book, he found all the staff there, along with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin who had arrived late the previous evening while he was in the library. Dumbledore, Severus noted with a new surge of panic, was dressed in formal robes, and a traveling cloak was folded on top of a suitcase.  
  
Dumbledore glanced around to make sure everyone was there and then explained. "Minister Fudge died half an hour ago of a stray curse in front of the ministry building. I must go and help Arthur Weasley organize the ministry before Fudges deputies decide to continue his denial of reality." He didn't have to say more on that subject. Fudge had refused to believe Voldemort was alive for the last three years. His excuses for the death eater activities had become more and more improbable, but many in the ministry supported him in the hope that ignoring the problem would make it go away. Fudges death gave Arthur and his supporters the chance to take control of the ministry and organize the aurors, but only if Dumbledore contributed his authority and his knowledge of Voldemorts rise. "I should return in no more then a week."  
  
A week! Severus paled. He could not wait a week to tell the headmaster, and he didn't trust Minerva to know what to do in Dumbledore's absence. And while he was thinking, Dumbledore was picking up his cloak and preparing to leave.  
  
"Wait!"  
  
Everyone in the room looked at Severus. He swallowed and forced himself to speak calmly. "Could I speak with you alone for a moment Headmaster?"  
  
Dumbledore looked at the clock on the wall which was pointing to Time to Go, and then back at Snape. "I'm afraid I don't have the time for a private meeting Severus. We're all on the same side here."  
  
Snape felt like he was living in a nightmare. Next, his father would walk in and. He forced that thought away. "I know what is causing the spring fever."  
  
McGonagall glared at him. "I think that concerns all of us, Professor! What is the cause?"  
  
Severus couldn't face anyone, and stared at Dumbledore's desk instead. "I am."  
  
There was silence, and the headmaster placed his suitcase on the desk.  
  
"Explain."  
  
It was a command. 


	12. The Truth

Chapter Twelve  
  
Once again, they don't belong to me. If I had enough talent and dedication to write the Harry Potter series, I would publish my writings somewhere that I would get paid for it.  
  
"Explain."  
  
Severus winced internally at the tone of voice. It meant no escape. No wiggling out of this. No saying less then the complete truth.  
  
"Last night I remembered something I read years ago." Severus put the book, Adventures in the Great Forests of Europe, on the desk and continued. "Hamadryads, the male Dryads, produce a large quantity of pheromones when they are ready to mate. All Dryads within a few miles are affected. Most of them aren't attracted to that Hamadryad, but they all become more aggressive and competitive." Not to mention sex crazed. There were some very educational woodcuts in the book.  
  
Snape swallowed. Now was the hard part. "I am. I am part Dryad." He couldn't look at anyone, afraid of what he might see in there faces. "Most of the fights have occurred indoors. My classes have behaved worse then any of yours, and slytherins have been involved in most of the fights." And Neville seemed to actually return his feelings.  
  
"Wait a minute." Hagrid broke in. "Only girls can be part Dryad. In boys the genes re' recessed or somethin'."  
  
"I am abnormal." The words were void of emotion.  
  
"It's unusual but it has happened in families that have interbred with Dryads repeatedly," Sprout said matter-of-factly.  
  
Severus was surprised enough to look up and meet her eyes. "It has?" His father acted as though he was uniquely disgusting, even though he was the source of Severus' Dryad blood.  
  
"But yer not green," Hagrid said looking puzzled.  
  
Snape blushed and hoped no one noticed. It was a forlorn hope. Sirius was always looking for a chance to embarrass him. Before Severus could decide how to reply, Sirius had his wand out.  
  
"Cosmeticus disaparatus!"  
  
Severus flinched as the spell washed over him, feeling like tiny fingers were running through his hair and over his body. He knew from the gasps of several people that the spell was successful.  
  
"Oh."  
  
Sprout broke the stunned silence that followed. "Your hair looks nice, but you need more sun."  
  
Severus suppressed the urge to laugh, suspecting he would become hysterical if he did. Sprout was correct about the sun. He avoided sunlight and used heavy sunscreen when he had no other choice. As a result his skin was an unhealthy sallow color, but passably human. Exposure to sunlight for a time would darken it to greenish gold shade that was much healthier but definitely not human. His hair was another matter.  
  
Sirius did start laughing and several people were snickering when Dumbledore brought them back to the real problem. "When will the pheromone production stop?"  
  
"Autumn" "When he mates" Snape and Sprout answered simultaneously.  
  
Snape glared at the herbology professor who ignored him. "Hamadryads only come into bloom, as it's called, when they find a dryad they want to mate with. It ends when they bond with a mate, or early fall."  
  
"I see." Dumbledore looked at Severus, who desperately wished the ground would open up swallow him whole. "Hogwarts can't afford to lose you right now Severus, so you will have to resolve this." He raised his hand to cut off any protests. "I can't order you to bond with anyone, but I do expect you to explain the situation to him and listen to whatever he has to say. And now I really must go." With that said Dumbledore picked up the suitcase and threw a pinch of floo powder into the fire and was gone with a cry of "the ministry!"  
  
Severus collected his wits and with a murmured "excuse me," he was out of the office.  
  
Professor McGonagall followed a moment later but only found two stunned second year students in the hall near the gargoyle. "Did you see professor Snape go by here?" She demanded.  
  
They exchanged a glance. "Um, maybe." At her glare, the other one added, "It looked like him, aside from the green hair. But he was running too fast to be sure."  
  
McGonagall sighed and returned to the office.  
  
  
  
  
  
Note: My version of dryads is probably different from the actual myths. In my version, hamadryads are male dryads. At birth they look much like the female babies but they quickly diverge in appearance and by the time they are twenty or so they have found a good location and taken root. Within a few years they are indistinguishable from a normal tree. Female dryads look like female humans but are thinner, with sharp features and green skin. Their hair changes color with the seasons. Green in spring and summer, red and gold in the fall which fades to white by winter time. Mating between dryads is nothing like human sex, but female dryads can breed with humans and produce children because they can adjust there internal shape. Females of mixed blood often have the dryad hair and complexion and some of their abilities. Males almost never do, because the genes are recessive in them. Severus's fathers' family has a long history of intermarriage with dryads, and his mother had one as a distant ancestor, which his father wasn't aware of until after Severus's birth.  
  
Dryad females are very flighty. They are reluctant to settle down and be tied to one place and Hamadryad. That is why Hamadryads have the "bloom." It makes the dryads more aggressive and horny, but it does not cause them to desire any specific hamadryad. Only if a dryad has feelings for the male already is she encouraged to commit to him by the pheromones. 


End file.
